


Courting the Moon

by pristineungift



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Flavor of Regency, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, F/M, Family, Fluff, Humor, Parody, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-15
Updated: 2012-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-01 23:18:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pristineungift/pseuds/pristineungift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A humorous look at the mating rituals of the upper class. Keep your tongue in your cheek at all times. – Nothing meaningful here. Slight AU, takes place 10 years after the battle of Hogwarts (which makes it 9 years before the epilogue). Draco/Luna, background Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, Lucius/Narcissa. <b>ABANDONED</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Doom

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by sorrel_forbes and anna_fay. Britpicked by jaycuzey. 
> 
> That being said, I'm American, so I may make mistakes just because it's hard to catch words that are correct in my own dialect - particularly 'got' versus 'gotten'. So please bear with me, and if you see something like that, politely point it out and I will fix it.

It was that time again. That time of year when the social season started: garden parties, formal dinners, trips to see plays and symphonies. The time of year when those long standing families with daughters to marry off (and even worse, those social climbers who wanted to marry "up") declared open season on all "suitable" bachelors.

Draco Malfoy really hated that time.

Of course, he wasn't as eligible as he once might have been, thank Merlin. He was, willing or not, on the losing side of the last great wizarding war. The Dark Mark was an excellent deterrent. He never thought he would be grateful for the hideous thing.

Equally helpful was the fact that in the aftermath of the war, wealth and connection to war heroes had begun to matter more than pedigree in the game of matrimony. The Weasleys were all sought after with the zealous fervor of a pack of rampaging Dementors. Everyone wanted to be a Weasley, because to be a Weasley was to be related to Harry Potter.

Bit frightening really.

But Draco was grateful for it. It meant fewer women chasing after him. Unfortunately, one by one the Weasleys were getting caught, leaving fewer to throw in front of the slathering hordes in Draco's place.

So here he was. Ten years after the fall of Voldemort and he was once again one of the more eligible bachelors. He was not a decorated war hero. He was not a walking sex god, though he did not mind admitting that his looks were certainly not bad. No, the thing that brought the cosseted monsters after him again and again, year after year, was his money.

His landholdings, his Gringott's accounts, his house elves... Never mind that his father was in Azkaban and his mother under house arrest. Those things could be overlooked because he was one of the wealthiest (if not _the_ wealthiest) wizard in Britain.

And it was a bloody nuisance.

Draco sighed and rubbed his temples. He had just barely escaped from the latest grasping wench, returning in the wee hours of the morning from a party held at the offending damsel's home. Astoria. Simpering, scheming, greedy little bint. Claimed to be in love with him. She didn't even know his favorite color, much less enough to be in love with him.

He was very tired of only being wanted for his money.

"Mipsy!" Draco called. His voice sounded like a whine, even to him.

There was a crack and then the sound of bare little feet slapping against the stone floor of his study.

"Is Master Draco being very upset? Mipsy will be makings it better, sir," said his little woman house elf, his only true friend in the world.

Apparently he was maudlin tonight. Too much champagne.

"No one at that party cared about me at all, Mipsy. They only want the Malfoy fortune."

There. That was a very dignified monotone. Not a whine at all.

Mipsy pulled his chair back from the large marble topped desk and climbed into his lap so that she could get her little arms around his neck, all the while cooing to him, "It's alright Master Draco, _Mipsy_ loves you."

That made him feel a little better. He had long ago ordered all of his elves to never lie for fear of punishment from him. They were to always speak their minds. So his favorite little elf really did love him. That was something.

As Draco sat there allowing Mipsy to fuss over him he thought back to how it had come to be that his only friends were his house elves.

He had been largely ignored by the world following the Dark Lord's demise. He had finished out his eighth year at Hogwarts feeling like less than a ghost. He was not called on in class. He did not attempt to speak to anyone. Occasionally he caught Granger giving him pitying looks. He never let her know he saw. He wouldn't become her new crusade.

He had not received any letters from his parents, as he was used to. Neither of them were permitted contact with the outside world. His father had traded his freedom for that of his wife and son's. His mother wore a charmed bracelet that would alert aurors should she violate her house arrest in any way.

And so he was alone.

Upon graduating from Hogwarts, it had been much the same. Very few were willing to be associated with the dishonored son of a Death Eater.

One day, drowning in his own loneliness, wishing to talk to someone other than his mother, he summoned a house elf and demanded the elf talk to him.

And so the elf told him about the gardens and the peacock pens.

And little by little, Draco lost his contempt. And little by little, his elves became his friends.

He took special joy in the look on his mother's face when he informed the elves that they were permitted to talk back to her when she was being difficult.  


**-l-**

Poor Master Draco was always so upset when those nasty filthy ladies tried to marry him. Mipsy knew she had to do something. She just didn't know what. So she decided then and there as she sat hugging her little blonde boy (for Mipsy had been Draco's nanny and would always think of him as 'her boy') that she was going to do something she might be punished for.

She was going to tell Ms. Narcissa.

"You be hushing now, Master Draco. Mipsy will makes it better, you'll see," Mipsy smiled as only a house elf could, with mouth and ears both. She planted a kiss on her boy's forehead, and then was off, little feet slap-slapping as fast as they could go.

Draco sat there in her wake, a rather bemused expression on his face. As he pulled himself back toward the desk, he wondered what Mipsy was planning with a certain feeling of encroaching doom.

But it was a nice kind of doom. If nothing else, it would be a different kind of doom than he was used to. The change would be refreshing.

 

  



	2. Lady of the Manor

Narcissa Malfoy, when all things were said and done, could not complain overly much. She was not in Azkaban. Her son had retained his freedom after the Wizengamot ruled he had been acting under 'duress of consent.'

It helped that Lucius had agreed to make a full confession.

But best not to think on that.

Her house and its grounds were large and varied enough that she would not go stir crazy for at least another few years. Yes, Narcissa had no right to complain.

That did not mean she didn't want to.

Mouth turned down into a small, regal pout, Narcissa rang the bell she used to call her personal house elf. She would have her tea in the blue drawing room today. She was tired of her solar. Draco would join her, as he did every Tuesday. He would put on a happy face and tell her of his social calendar, and his business. They would read the latest gossip column in the _Daily Prophet_ and he would tell her what he knew of the actual events.

He tried to be so cheerful for her. But a mother could tell.

It was there in his eyes. Not as haunted as they were in _those days_ , but sad enough. She suspected lady trouble. If only Lucius were permitted visitors… But no, she wasn't thinking of that.

The solar door opened and Narcissa turned to see, not her personal elf, Libby, but Draco's nanny Mipsy.

"Mipsy, is Libby ill?" asked Narcissa. She was genuinely concerned. Libby had proved to be an invaluable companion following the Malfoy fall from grace.

Mipsy assumed a posture Narcissa had known well in days of old, before Draco let the elves run wild. With her ears flattened to the side of her head and her little hands clenched before her face, it was apparent that Mipsy had either just done, or was about to do a Bad Thing.

"Mipsy is needing to talk to Ms. Narcissa. But the Master will be so angry with Mipsy! Everythings he is telling me when we is being in the Master's study is supposed to be secret. But Mipsy does not know what to do!" The little elf wailed and threw herself to the floor, thumping her head against the wood for good measure.

Narcissa was used to displays of this nature. She was _not_ used to the elves disobeying Draco. They all loved him so. This could be very telling.

"Come here Mipsy. I'm sure the Master didn't mean you couldn't tell me things."

The elf continued to thump her head against the floor, though thankfully she crawled forward enough that she was hitting the thick oriental carpet. Draco would have fits if his precious nursie was bruised.

Through the thumping, Mipsy screeched out, "Master says _especially_ not to be telling Ms. Narcissa!"

Well.

Deciding that this was more important than the remains of her dignity, Narcissa knelt on the carpet, cradled Mipsy's head in her hands and very calmly and deliberately asked,

"What is it you wish to tell me?"

**-l-**

Things were not as bad as Mipsy's display had led Narcissa to fear. While she had waited for Mipsy to calm and actually explain the reason for her tantrum, horrible thoughts had flashed through her mind. Draco had gotten an unsuitable girl pregnant, Draco had gotten a suitable girl pregnant who refused to marry him for being a Malfoy, Draco had secretly carried on some of the more illegal aspects of the family business and the aurors were close to catching him, Draco's Mark was hurting.

The reality seemed much less terrible and easier to deal with in comparison.

"I do wish someone had told me sooner, Mipsy. There is a simple solution to all of this," Narcissa scolded, her voice ringing with relief.

Mipsy looked at Narcissa as if she were the Queen of the Seelie Sidhe, adoration shining from her little face. Narcissa felt pity for a creature that could be so easily swayed, and flattered to be thought of so highly by _someone_ all at once.

"Mipsy, you will go and fetch Libby. Then you shall make sure the Master is not late for tea. Have Wilsby serve in the blue drawing room."

Mipsy nodded her assent, ears flapping. She backed to the solar door, bowing to Narcissa over and over, that pitiful look of adoration still plastered on her elfin face.

It was very nice to be Lady of the Manor again, if only for a few moments.

  



	3. Mother's New Project

Draco awoke to a hard little finger poking him in his side. Opening bleary eyes, he realized from the crick in his neck and the ache in his back that he had passed out face down on his desk. And there was alcohol stale saliva stuck to his cheek.

Disgusting.

The hard finger in his side turned out to belong to Mipsy, and in the hand not occupied with poking him she mercifully held a large bottle of hangover potion.

"Mipsy is to be makings sure that Master is not late for tea," she piped while setting the bottle down next to his face.

Draco quickly sat up and downed the potion, wincing at the taste (not to mention the dizziness, the nausea, and the spike of pain in his head caused by the high pitch of Mipsy's voice). He closed his eyes and counted to twenty. By the time he was done, he felt very much better.

"Mother is especially eager for me to have tea today, I take it. No doubt there's something in the gossip column that she wants confirmed," Draco paused as a jaw cracking yawn seemed to erupt from his mouth. "I'll just go make myself presentable then."

Draco rose to leave, shucking his cloak and robes as he went, leaving him in trousers, vest, and shirtsleeves. He was so used to being waited upon, he didn't even notice Mipsy scurrying to pick up the articles he dropped, though she carefully waited until after they had hit the floor. She did not want to accidentally be set free!

"Tea is beings in the blue drawing room today, Master!" Mipsy called as Draco disappeared through the door.

He waved a hand back through the opening in acknowledgment.

**-l-**

Narcissa sat perched on the edge of her favorite settee in the blue drawing room, looking at the things spread out on the delicately wrought coffee table before her.

On the left she had an old issue of _Witch Weekly_ , open to an article in which they had done a "Where Are They Now?" segment on the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army. There was a very helpful list of the members of each group. On the right she had the Malfoy book of wizarding genealogy, a book of family trees that updated itself as the important families married and had children.

She needed to find a way to add families to the book. It currently reflected the old order, listing the Malfoys, the Parkinsons, the Zabinis and the like. In the new order, it would be very helpful if she could get the book to chronicle such families as the Weasleys, the Potters, and Nimue help her, the Longbottoms.

Between those two resources, she had a piece of parchment on which she had made two lists using her favorite peacock feather quill. She had gone through both the magazine article and the genealogy and listed those unattached females that she deemed suitable for Draco under the heading "Possibilities." In the column next to that, under the heading "Female Relatives?" she had listed influential persons of both sexes.

The sound of footsteps ringing on the flagstones of the hall alerted Narcissa to Draco's presence before he entered the room. As usual, he was dressed impeccably and very like his father. He had let his hair grow out, though he always kept it tied back with a velvet ribbon. Narcissa suspected that he knew the pang it caused her when she glanced at him with his hair down and, for just a moment, thought it was somehow Lucius.

He approached her, that cheerful look that didn't fool her for a minute in place as he bent to kiss her cheek.

As he began to straighten, he caught a glimpse of what she had on the table.

**-l-**

Draco had known that Mipsy was going to try some harebrained scheme. It was one of her more endearing characteristics. He had not, however, considered that the harbinger of his new and different kind of doom might be his mother.

He supposed he should have expected it.

Draco contrived to look surprised as he sat in one of the armchairs placed diagonally across from the settee, "What are you doing with such an old issue of Witch Weekly, Mother?"

He kept his voice light and lilting. He knew very well why she had it out, but it was always nice to make her squirm a little, one of his few pleasures. She had no idea that he knew about the box full of _Witch Weekly_ s hidden inside the baby grand piano in the Greater Dining Hall.

He supposed she was ashamed of collecting them, something he found infinitely amusing. After all, the Malfoy name was already mud, what could a _Witch Weekly_ subscription possibly do to it?

His mother completely ignored the question, recognizing it for the delaying tactic it was.

Spoilsport.

As Wilsby served tea and canapés, Mother smiled at him in a very disturbing way. That was the I'm-going-to-redecorate-the-Manor-and-design-a-new-line-of-house-elf-day-wear smile. And it was directed at Draco.

He was to be his mother's new project.

"Draco, darling, Mipsy and I have been talking. And before you start sputtering, she was very right to come to me and I think we shall begin work on a solution at once," Narcissa practically sang. She picked up her list and her peacock feather quill after handing her teacup off to Wilsby.

"I can guess what Mipsy must have been saying, Mother, but I assure you that I can take care of this matter myself."

A token resistance, that. Mother mustn't know that her help was wanted. It would take all of the fun out of it for her.

"Nonsense, Draco. There is no shame in accepting your mother's help," she replied swiftly. Anyone who knew her well would be able to see the gleam of unholy glee in her eyes.

It struck Draco then that this scheme of his mother's would be good for both of them. As lonely as his existence was, his mother's must be infinitely more so. He could leave the grounds after all, and see other people (even if they didn't really care one way or the other about seeing him). His mother had only himself and the house elves.

Perhaps Draco ought to find a wife then, someone to be a companion for his mother. Her happiness must come first. Yes, this would be Draco's great Noble Sacrifice. It would also alleviate his boredom.

He must be worse off than he thought, to be able to convince himself so quickly.

Convinced of his official reasons of acceptance, Draco said "Alright Mother. Read off the names then."

Narcissa looked a little shocked at his easy capitulation. It made her suspicious.

Clearing her throat, she began "Hermione Granger and Ginevra Weasley are already taken of course, but I've looked through the membership list for the rest of the Order and the Army, and I believe there are a few suitable girls left." Her tone clearly said _There would have been more if you hadn't left this so long._

"Yes Mother. And the remaining women are?"

Narcissa would have 'hmphed' at him if she were of lesser breeding.

"Lavender Brown -"

Draco interrupted immediately, "Absolutely not, Mother. She's a shameless Weasley chaser. Not to mention a slag."

Narcissa narrowed her eyes at his terminology, but crossed the name off the list before continuing as if she hadn't been interrupted.

"Hannah Abbot -"

"– is dating Neville Longbottom," Draco interrupted again.

Katie Bell was crossed off for having been traded to an American quidditch team, Marietta Edgecombe was excluded for still having 'Sneak' spelled out on her forehead. Cho Chang's removal from the list was amusing.

"I don't think she'd be interested, Mother."

Narcissa was immediately haughty, "Because you're a Malfoy?"

"No, Mother," Draco answered with a grin, "because I'm a man."

"Oh. Oh!"

You'd think it would be harder to fluster the wife of a notorious criminal.

After eliminating Blaise Zabini's little sister ("That would be exceedingly awkward, Mother.") and Elizabeth McNair ("Have you _seen_ her?"), the only two girls from the wizarding genealogy to make the list, the short list was, well, very short.

"Well Draco, you've eliminated everyone but the Patil twins and Luna Lovegood."

Draco thought for a moment.

"I'll send a letter to Mr. Patil. Do you know what his first name is?"

"No, dear. Ask Libby to find out for you. While you do that, I'm going to see if any of the others on my list have suitable relatives. I'm almost certain I remember reading that Fleur Weasley has a younger sister."

**-l-**

The reply from Hardeep Patil was less than promising.

_Dear Mr. Malfoy:_

_I thank you for your interest in my daughters. However, both girls are currently being courted by other young men. Also, they took exception to the fact that you did not care which of them you courted._

_Best of luck to you in your endeavors,_

_Hardeep Patil_

The letter politely said that both girls could and were doing better. They probably had Weasleys. As to the fact that he did not care which he courted… well he hardly knew either of them. He had just wanted Patil to advise him as to which he should court. Fool shouldn't have let his daughters read the letter.

Unless Mother had made headway with the "Female Relatives?" part of her list, that left him one option.

Loony Lovegood.

Draco shied away from the thought. It wasn't just that she was eccentric… but she had been held captive here, in his house.

Draco could remember those large blue eyes, unfocused and dreamy. Her father would never even open a letter from Draco.

And Draco could not blame him.

  



	4. The Hummingbird Over the Leftmost Countertop

Luna stared dreamily out the window of her tower room. Her room was much unchanged from the way it had been her final year of Hogwarts. She saw no reason to alter it. The room remembered the days of war, the nights of learning not because she liked to, but because she needed to. There was power in the memory, whispering to her in the air, a hum of energy she could feel when she closed her eyes. She smiled.

It was a warm clear day. If she strained her eyes, she could almost imagine that she could see The Burrow in the distance over the hills.

She turned from the window, meandering over to the trapdoor that led down from her room, thinking of putting some things together for tea. It was approaching the late afternoon and Ginny and Hermione usually popped round before they went to get their children from Molly.

Descending the stairs and smiling absently at her father as she passed through the printing room, Luna entered the kitchen and began setting out the tea things. Hermione and Ginny always insisted on something boring like Earl Grey, so she kept it on hand for them.

A swish of her wand set pastry dough and a seemingly random assortment of fruit flying from the cupboards to assemble themselves into pies and the kettle boiling. Another swish and the dishes began to arrange themselves on the table. Satisfied that tea was taking care of itself, Luna accio-ed her notes for her latest experimental charm from her room and sat down to have a dabble at them, tucking her wand behind her ear as she did so.

Luna was a dabbler. She nominally worked in the Experimental Charms Office of the Ministry, but she often went hunting for previously undiscovered magical creatures. Most often she discovered a previously unknown fact about an already identified creature. She had been listed as a contributor in the _Monster Book of Monsters_ just a year ago.

The Ministry allowed her to work from home so that she could assist her father with _The Quibbler_. She thought this was very nice of them. What she did not know was that her supervisor had only been too happy to grant the request because she gave him the collywobbles. He was even pushing the paperwork to make her an Unspeakable. She would be honored, and he would never have to feel like she was looking through his skin again.

"You have visitors," said the hummingbird painted over the leftmost countertop. Luna had gotten the idea when Hermione showed her a muggle computer.

Standing to greet her guests, Luna quickly banished her notes back to her room. She didn't like Hermione to see them. Hermione invariably tried to correct them, but Luna's charms always worked in the end. They were just less linear than Hermione was used to.

Just as Luna was tucking her wand back behind her ear, the kitchen door creaked open to admit Hermione and a very pregnant Ginny.

"Hello," said Luna, smiling her slightly crooked smile as she got up to rub Ginny's belly. Both women were used to Luna greeting the unborn child first, having been pregnant around her before. Luna insisted that it was impolite to leave the child out of conversations.

After the greetings were done, everyone seated, and the tea things levitated to the table, Luna assumed a listening pose - head tilted to the side, chin resting on her clasped hands, and eyes opened wide.

Hermione and Ginny took this to mean that Luna wanted to hear about the children.

"James is zooming about on his first toy broom. He's ecstatic over it. Harry wanted to get him one sooner of course, but in 'Early Magic: A witch's guide to child rearing' they say that a lot of serious injuries are caused by toy broomsticks for children under three," began Ginny.

Hermione followed with, "Exactly right, I won't be getting one for Rose and Hugo until they're both three. They're so close in age I just can't let Rose have one without Hugo getting one too. I worry about them being so close in age sometimes, I feel like Hugo is pushing himself too hard to keep up with his sister." Hermione took a bite of pie, and then very discreetly pretended to cough so she could spit it into her napkin.

Ginny covered the pause.

"I shouldn't worry too much, Hermione. James and Albus aren't much farther apart than Rose and Hugo, and besides look at me and all my brothers. None of us turned out too weird."

"Except for Percy," said Luna dreamily.

Hermione and Ginny burst into helpless laughter, and Luna smiled demurely, immensely pleased with herself for saying something funny (even if she hadn't meant to).

Over the next twenty minutes, Luna learned that Rose was counting all the way to twenty, Hugo was cutting teeth, James was sure to be a quidditch star, Harry and Ginny were going to name the new baby Lily, and Albus was insisting on being called Severus (because Uncle Sev was a _spy_ and Uncle Al was just _old_ ). Apparently Al's (Sev's?) demand was adorable to hear, as he still had a lisp. Luna dutifully promised to ask him to say it next time she saw him.

"You have mail," said the hummingbird painted above the leftmost countertop.

A large eagle owl flew in through the open kitchen door and up the stairs to the printing room. Luna heard her father gasp. She did hope that he wasn't injured. He might have been too distracted by wrackspurts to notice the owl attempting to land.

Hermione was staring rather hard after the owl.

"Is something wrong?" asked Luna.

"That looked like a Malfoy owl," replied Hermione, her eyes still trained on the stairs.

"And you know that because…?" prompted Ginny.

Hermione turned to Ginny, eyebrows raised, mouth firmly shut.

"It's an Unspeakable thing then," said Ginny.

Hermione had been an Unspeakable for three years. She was the youngest to join their ranks in over a century.

Hermione was spared replying to Ginny as just at that moment, Xenophilius Lovegood descended the stairs with the eagle owl perched on his arm. Luna could tell that he had been working on an important article because his robe was turned the wrong way out and he had forgotten to brush his hair.

Xenophilius looked vaguely surprised to have guests. He must have forgotten the time. He really needed to start wearing his wrackspurt siphons while he worked, Luna thought.

"I think this letter is from Malfoy Manor," said Xenophilius. His face was a little whiter than normal. He hadn't ever really gotten over those horrible days when Luna had been gone.

Hermione got up at once to take the letter.

"This is Malfoy's seal alright," she said as she turned the letter over to examine the dark green circle of wax holding the flap closed. "But it's not his business seal. See the dragons twisting around the 'M'?" She held the letter out to Luna and Ginny, pointing at the feature.

"This is his personal seal. So it's personal business," she finished, dropping the letter on the table in front of Luna.

Ginny looked like she was getting ready for a strop. "I swear, one of these days I'm going to become an Unspeakable just so you can't be so mysterious all the time."

At Hermione's bland look, Ginny subsided, muttering to herself about Unspeakable Vows and confidentiality spells.

Luna turned the letter over and saw it was addressed to "Mr. X. Lovegood." She tried to hand it back to her father, "You'd better open it Daddy. What if he wants to give an interview for The Quibbler?"

Xenophilius turned a little whiter.

"Maybe you'd better open it, Luna-loo," he said as he moved toward the counter to fix himself an infusion of Gurdyroots.

Luna shrugged and opened the letter with a butter knife from the table, careful not to ruin the seal. She thought it was rather lovely. Pulling the letter out, which was written on heavy, high quality parchment, Luna began to read without blinking.

And she continued not to blink.

When enough time had passed for it to be strange, even for Luna, Ginny eased the letter out of Luna's hands and read it aloud.

_Dear Mr. Lovegood:_

_I am writing this letter to petition you for your permission to court your daughter, Luna. I know this is a somewhat outdated practice, but we Malfoys have always been slaves of tradition._

_If my suit is acceptable to you, I should like to visit you tomorrow evening for tea. I will bring Luna the first courting gift to make things official._

_I have instructed Archon to wait for your reply._

_Sincerely,_

_Draco Malfoy_

_Lord of Malfoy Manor_

_Knight of Walpurgis_

_p.s. Is Luna partial to any certain type of flower?_

 

  



	5. Draco Has Pretty Handwriting

Ginny was the first to break the silence.

"He forgot to put Death Eater," she said a bit viciously.

"I think he inherited the knighthood with his title," Hermione said by way of reply.

"Would anyone else like some firewhiskey?" asked Xenophilius.

"I'll have some," said Hermione at the same time that Ginny said, "I can't."

"Let's tell him Luna would rather date a grindylow," Ginny carried on.

"I think my confidentiality spells might let me say a few things to Luna since he's involved her in his personal life…" Hermione began.

"It's really more Luna's decision than mine," Xenophilius addressed the bottom of his glass.

"You know," said Luna, "he has very pretty handwriting."

Everyone stopped.

Luna seemed not to notice the four pairs of eyes (including Archon) boring into her as she pulled the letter back across the table and began to trace the lettering with a fingernail.

Ginny sputtered, her hands splayed across her belly as if to protect unborn Lily from Auntie Luna's bout of insanity.

Hermione sat down across from Luna and studied her face carefully, "Are you considering accepting?"

Xenophilius stared harder into his glass, but Hermione could see him darting glances at Luna out of the corner of his eye.

"I think I might," Luna replied unconcernedly.

"Luna! For Merlin's sake, you were a prisoner in his house for months! He's probably just using you to make one of his pureblood slags jealous! Everyone knows that Astoria woman is practically throwing herself at him!" Ginny burst out, apparently unable to hold herself back any longer.

"I don't think I'd mind very much," Luna turned to look at Ginny. "It's not as if I have to marry him. And it will be nice to be invited to parties. I haven't been invited to anything since Neville took the herbology position at Hogwarts," she finished, and then returned to tracing the lines of Draco's handwriting.

Ginny felt immensely guilty at once. Luna hadn't had a date or been invited out in two years? She had never said.

"We always invite you to Grimmauld Place and The Burrow," Ginny mumbled, knowing full well that those didn't count.

Hermione pulled the letter away from Luna so that she could be sure to have her full attention.

"If you're serious about this, I can try to tell you some things about him. Just let me know if I start to talk rubbish, or sprout horns, alright?"

Luna nodded, and turned to look at her father, who ambled over to the table and took the fourth chair.

"It is rather nice handwriting, isn't it?" he offered weakly.

Ginny mumbled something that sounded very much like "Nutters."

Hermione took a deep breath, as if she was preparing to jump into ice cold water, and then very carefully said,

"Draco Malfoy has not broken any laws to my knowledge since his trial."

No pain, no horns.

So far, so good.

"Draco Malfoy allowed the Ministry to search the Manor. Draco willingly turned over all of the Dark items in the Manor. Draco had the lion and the unicorn fighting for the crown."

"That last bit went funny," said Ginny.

"What did I say?"

"Something about lions and unicorns," answered Xenophilius, who seemed to be regaining some color.

"Let me try again. Draco is a mystery cat; he's called the hidden paw-"

Ginny interrupted.

"Just stop. You're reciting one of those Woyd Lebber songs you like."

Hermione sighed. "I don't think I'll be able to say any more than I already have, then. I'm pushing it as it is. Sorry, Luna, Xenophilius."

Luna smiled and wandlessly summoned some parchment and an inkpot, pulling a quill from her hair as she did so.

Hermione was always quietly awed at these little displays of power from Luna. With her dottiness, it was very easy to forget that Luna was a formidable witch, who at the age of fourteen had taken on Death Eaters, and the age of sixteen had survived months of imprisonment and emerged relatively whole and sane.

The reminder calmed Hermione immensely. Luna could take care of herself. She would point it out to Ginny once they left to get the children. They were running a bit late…

Molly would understand.

Luna placed the quill in her father's hand. He looked into her face, and then down at the blank parchment.

"What should I say?"

Together, the four of them crafted a reply and sent Archie (as Luna had begun calling the eagle owl) winging his way back to Malfoy Manor.

**-l-**

Draco was strolling about the grounds when Archon found him. Normally all mail went to the owl tower to be picked up by the house elves and left on his desk in the morning, but he had instructed Archon to come to him directly. If this letter said what he thought it was going to, he didn't want anyone else to know of its existence.

At least it wasn't a howler.

Draco wandered for a while longer before sitting under a tree at the edge of the property, hesitantly opening the letter with the slide of one finger.

When he read it, he was so surprised that he was glad he was already sitting.

_Dear Mr. Malfoy:_

_I am honored to accept your suit on behalf of my daughter. Please do come by tomorrow around four o' clock. That is the time we usually entertain guests. Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Potter should be here around that time as well._

_Luna likes daisies and water lilies best, but she likes all flora in general._

_I hope you like Gurdyroots,_

_Xenophilius Lovegood_

For a few moments, Draco found his thoughts entirely taken up with what on Earth a Gurdyroot was.

Then it dawned that he would actually have to call on his intended (Loony – Luna Lovegood was his intended?) tomorrow and that he would need a suitable courting gift.

"Mipsy!"

  



	6. Draco Malfoy Comes to Tea

Luna was trying very hard not to reveal that she was nervous. She was nervous not because she thought Draco was dangerous, but because he was rather handsome. She had gone to the trouble of brushing her hair until it fell in a tangle free curtain to her waist, and she had made sure her face and hands were clean of any dirt or ink stains. The mirror above the sink wheezed its approval, but then the mirror was an old friend and always thought Luna looked nice.

Hermione and Ginny showed up three hours before Draco's anticipated arrival, attacking Eagle's Rook (as the Lovegoods called their tower) with a vengeance. Ginny bustled Xenophilius off to spruce him up. Hermione cast cleaning charms left, right, and center. In the printing room, she frowned to herself, and then with a wide, sweeping gesture cast organizing spells on all of the clutter, her wand a blur in the air. The room would still be cluttered, but it would be _orderly_ clutter by Merlin!

Xenophilius emerged from his bedroom looking much tidier than Luna could remember seeing him. His clothes were all on right way round and his hair was neatly parted on the side and combed back.

Ginny and Hermione seemed to have reached an accord overnight. If Luna wanted to date Draco Malfoy, then Luna would date Draco Malfoy and they would help her in any way possible. They would not be dramatic about it. They would, however, hide a small Sneakoscope on Luna's person.

Ginny had not said as much to Hermione, but she was trying very hard to make up for not knowing Luna wasn't getting out much, which probably explained the overdone make-up charm she cast in the general direction of Luna's face.

"Honestly Ginny, you've made her look like Pansy Parkinson." Hermione rolled her eyes heavenward and flicked her own wand at Luna's face, resulting in a much more tasteful effect.

"Actually, I think it's Pansy Flint now," Ginny replied.

At the mention of Pansy Parkinson, Luna suddenly stopped blinking.

Hermione and Ginny shared a look. Where a normal woman would snap, or cry, to show anxiety, Luna's version was a tendency to forget to moisten her eyeballs. Evidently, accepting Malfoy's suit was not as simple as Luna had made out.

Hermione steered Luna over to the slightly lumpy loveseat and sat her down, saying very quietly, "It's you he's courting."

Luna suddenly blinked and let out a breathy little laugh.

"Oh, it's not that I'm worried about that or anything. I suppose I'd just forgotten."

What she had forgotten she never said, for drifting up the stairs from the kitchen they could quite clearly hear the hummingbird over the leftmost countertop say, "You have a visitor."

**-l-**

Draco Apparated a short distance from Eagle's Rook, rather than at the gate. He wanted the walk to compose himself.

He was terribly afraid that this was a horrible joke and all the Weasleys were going to jump out of the hills and scream "Gotcha!"

Perhaps that was why he had taken extra pains to look more like his father than ever. He had even gone so far as to wear one of his father's old ensembles, which fit him well after a little tailoring - he was a little trimmer in the waist. Mipsy had even taken the time to embroider dragons twining around the 'M' on his necktie.

His hair was artfully draped around his shoulders, his robe flowed around him as he moved, and he managed the snake headed cane very well. He felt very splendid. And if this was a joke, they would at least feel uncomfortable because of the resemblance.

As he neared the fence surrounding the tower, he passed four rather shabby signs.

'THE QUIBBLER. EDITOR: X. LOVEGOOD'

'PICK YOUR OWN MISTLETOE'

'KEEP OFF THE DIRIGIBLE PLUMS'

'WRACKSPURT SIPHONS SOLD HERE'

The gate was rickety and the yard overgrown, but Draco navigated both successfully, standing at last on the threshold. He stopped to pull an artfully arranged posy of daisies from his pocket and un-shrunk it. His mother had arranged the flowers. That done, Draco took a deep breath and grasped the eagle shaped door knocker, knocking it against the big black door three times.

There was a small commotion behind the door, as if those inside were fighting over who should open it. At last Draco was greeted by an uncomfortable looking Xenophilius Lovegood.

"Good afternoon Mr. Malfoy. Thank you for coming over today."

The poor man looked decidedly out of his depth.

"Please, call me Draco. May I come in?"

Xenophilius dithered on the doorstep, blinking at him owlishly.

Unusually accommodating, Draco prompted his host once more. Catching on in sudden wide eyed understanding, Xenophilius animatedly ushering Draco inside as he said, "And you should call me Xenophilius, of course!"

Draco's first impression was of stepping inside a water color painting. It was very disorienting. The room was completely round (even though Eagle's Rook was in fact a round tower, he had rather expected expansion charms to be in use) and painted with brightly colored animals and flowers. Most of the animals were birds. Since Draco didn't figure Xenophilius as much of a painter, he assumed the work was Luna's.

He wondered if she liked peacocks.

Then he realized Xenophilius had been speaking.

"I'm very sorry, could you repeat that? I was admiring the artwork."

Xenophilius beamed at him. The work must be Luna's, then.

"I was just saying that the ladies are upstairs in the printing room. It doubles as the living room, you see. So if you wanted to go up, I'll be up in a bit with the tea things," Xenophilius said, and then turned to putter with some dubious looking… biscuits?

As Draco ascended the stairs and caught sight of all the clutter, he idly considered giving the Lovegoods a house elf as his next courting gift.


	7. An Exchange of Gifts

Hermione Weasely, Ginny Potter, and Luna were seated on a loveseat facing the stairs, waiting for Draco. Due to Ginny Potter's girth, they seemed to be wedged in rather tightly. She glared at Draco as he climbed the last few steps, daring him to say anything. He felt his face stiffen into a neutral mask.

"Mrs. Potter," he inclined his head, "my congratulations."

She stared at him for a hard minute, then finally managed, "Thank you, Malfoy."

Draco exchanged nods with Hermione. They were familiar to one another, if not well liked. She was his mother's case worker, or probation officer, or something to that effect.

Draco turned to Luna, a small stiff smile on his face, and held out the posy of daisies. "These are for you."

She took them and held them to her nose, staring up at him. She was prettier than he remembered. He'd never noticed her much at school, except as a member of Potter's gang. And then later, when she became one of a few individuals seared into his mind forever, she had been dressed in rags and very dirty. Not that that was her fault.

Her long golden hair was a shade or so darker than his own. Her features were delicate. Her skin was a nice light cream. There was an element of Otherness about her. He wondered if she had dryad blood in her family somewhere. Her eyes were large and blue. Beautiful even.

She didn't blink very much.

"You look a lot like your father," she said in that whimsical voice he remembered well from dark months gone by.

There was an awkward silence.

Draco was not used to being the one who had to make the small talk. He was typically sought after, not the seeker.

He always had been a lousy seeker.

Desperate for something, anything to talk about, Draco said the first thing that popped into his mind.

"What's a Gurdyroot?"

**-l-**

When Xenophilius came up the stairs carefully balancing the tea tray, he suddenly felt that everything was going to be alright.

Hermione and Ginny were seated in chairs by the printing press, Ginny looking amazed and Hermione contemplative.

Draco and Luna were sitting on the loveseat together, Draco with his legs and cane carefully arranged in the traditional Victorian pose, and Luna leaning toward him, an open issue of _The Quibbler_ between them.

"And that's why you need the Spectre Specs," Luna was saying as she punched a pair out of the pages open before them _._

"I see," said Draco as she placed the bizarre glasses on his face for him. Little specks of light solidified, floating about the room. Draco thought they were probably dust motes, but he supposed they could be wrackspurts. Looking through the lenses turned Ginny Potter's hair a horrible shade of purple. Draco laughed.

Luna smiled at him, a little crooked quirk of her mouth. He smiled back.

" _Honestly_ ," grumbled Hermione.

Draco turned to look at Hermione, presenting a ridiculous juxtaposition between his finely tailored clothes and the bright turquoise Spectre Specs. He fixed her with a look and said, "There are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

"Don't you quote Shakespeare at me!" Hermione snapped.

Luna hid a grin behind her hand. Draco merely smiled a small genuine small. It transformed his face.

It was utterly devastating.

**-l-**

It wasn't until Draco's pocket watch began singing the time that he realized he had been sitting and talking with Luna for over three hours.

He had actually been enjoying himself.

Luna wasn't doing anything special to coerce him into matrimony. She was just herself. And that let him be himself. He didn't have to be on the lookout for verbal traps or careful of what promises he made. He didn't have to pretend everything was beneath his notice.

He got to wear funny glasses.

"I'm sorry Luna. I should go. Mother is expecting me at the manor for dinner."

He suddenly realized that he would like to invite her there. But not so soon… that would be coming on a bit strong really.

"Oh," she said, her voice surprised and disappointed. "I suppose it is getting late."

Draco tentatively reached out to take her hand, slipping a small package into it as he did so. "A courting gift," he said.

Luna opened the small box to find a triangular stone with a natural hole in the center of it nestled in a bed of silk.

"Faery sight?" she gasped.

"A Seeing Stone," Draco confirmed. "It has been in the Malfoy family vault for decades. I read the article you published in that quarterly charms journal about countering Unseelie glamour. I thought you might like it."

Luna was already holding the stone up and peering through it.

"What?" she replied distractedly. "Yes, I love it."

She seemed to study him through the stone for a moment, and then grinned. "You keep the Spectre Specs."

"I'll wear them home," he said gallantly.

As Luna showed Draco out, Hermione and Ginny sat blinking.

Hermione said, "The Greater Fae have been extinct for hundreds of years."

"Guess the charms quarterly didn't care about that little fact." Ginny replied, and then continued, "I don't like it. He was too nice."

Hermione easily followed the apparent non-sequitor.

"He wasn't faking."

Ginny looked at Hermione for a moment, and then said, quite shrewdly, "You're a Legilimens, aren't you?"

"I'm an Unspeakable."

"I'll take that as a 'yes' then. Couldn't he occlude?"

Hermione glanced away. "He wasn't trying to."

"Ah," said Ginny.

Silence for a moment.

"No wonder Ron can't sneak anything past you."

Another pause.

"Can you teach me?"


	8. Elves and Faeries and Gnomes, Oh My

When Draco walked through the doors of Malfoy Manor, he found his mother, Mipsy, Libby, and Wilsby all waiting for him in a rather comical little procession.

"Well?" Narcissa prompted, as Mipsy wrung her little hands.

"Well what?" Draco countered impishly, walking past them.

Wilsby took Draco's cane and cloak as he discarded them, trotting to keep up as they all made their way into the Lesser Dining Hall.

"Is dinner late, Mother?" Draco drawled. "How odd. You usually don't allow this to happen."

"Draco!" Narcissa snapped in the tone of voice that he had learned to obey without question as a child. "Enough teasing! Now, how were you received? And what in Merlin's name are those _things_ on your face?"

Seating himself at the head of the table, Draco realized that he had completely forgotten to remove his Spectre Specs. "These _things_ , Mother, are a gift from my intended."

Mipsy let loose a happy little squeal, climbing up the back of Draco's chair to get a better look at the glasses. He smiled at her, taking them off to let her look through them.

Narcissa's lips twitched at the undignified display, but she said nothing, knowing that Draco would feign misunderstanding, if only to vex her. After a moment she took her seat to Draco's left, prompting him, "So Miss Lovegood has accepted your suit?"

It was difficult to keep the hope from her voice.

Suddenly serious, Draco met her eyes. "It seems so. For now, at the very least. I shall call on her again soon, I think."

Narcissa almost collapsed in relief. It would be something happy to write to Lucius about.

Not that she was permitted to send him her letters. Still, she wrote letter after letter, collecting them all in an old hat box. She didn't know why.

But it wasn't the time to be thinking of such things. Instead she smiled and was glad that her son was on his way to marriage with a respectable woman, a necessary step in restoring the Malfoy name.

Mipsy insisted they open a bottle of the good wine with dinner, and for once, Narcissa agreed with her.

**-l-**

"Mrs. Weasley," a nervous voice squeaked from Hermione's open office doorway. She looked up.

"What is it?"

"There's a disturbance in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," the man said, fidgeting nervously. Hermione was fairly certain his name was Bob.

"Why tell me?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "The Department of Mysteries doesn't have any projects concerning magical creatures at the moment. Can't Scamander handle whatever it is?"

"I, erm, it doesn't? It's just that – Well you see… Er," Bob stuttered, looking everywhere but at her.

Hermione had witnessed that kind of confused babbling before. Suddenly, she knew what the problem was. "Has Luna got into the Niffler pen again?"

Bob sagged in relief, shaking his head. "No, ma'am. This time she's set loose every kind of faery we have. They've hung Dirk from the ceiling by his bootstraps! And Amos is hiding under his desk."

Hermione couldn't decide whether she was amused or exasperated. "I'll come and talk to her, don't worry."

Frankly, Dirk Cresswell Jr. hanging upside down was a sight she would pay to see.

**-l-**

Hermione arrived in the Faery House of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to find a cloud of pixies, fairies, faeries, imps, leprechauns, and other variants running amuck through the enclosures used to breed them in captivity. A quick _fae repulsa_ insured that she would not be joining the other ministry workers in various states of faery induced mischief.

She took a moment to wonder at the incompetence of a group of Faery Wranglers without the sense to cast such a simple precautionary spell themselves.

"Luna?" she called, deftly sidestepping a group of gnomes that was attempting to shove a man into a flowerpot.

"Hermione, hello!" Luna called from the Brownie enclosure, absentmindedly waving as she took notes on all the faery activity around her.

Hermione approached, prepared to give Luna a stern talking to, when she noticed an odd contraption on Luna's head, and that the head of the department, wizened old Newt Scamander, was standing calmly next to her , looking at her notes.

"Come on Miss Lovegood, you promised I could have a go," the old wizard almost whined, looking wistfully at Luna's latest head decoration.

"What's going on?" Hermione wrinkled her brow, and examined the device. It seemed to be a leather strap that fit around Luna's head, much like Muggle doctors had worn once upon a time. But instead of a light mounted on the front, there was a golden aerial that flitted lightly back and forth, and a metal arm that curved around Luna's face to hold an eyepiece before her right eye.

As Luna turned to Scamander and adjusted the strange piece of equipment to fit him, Hermione saw that the eyepiece was the Seeing Stone that Draco Malfoy had given to Luna the day before.

"It's a rather clever experiment," Scamander explained as he eagerly squinted through the Seeing Stone. "There isn't any documented research on observing Lesser Fae through a Seeing Stone."

Lune beamed at him, and then went back to scribbling notes, blissfully lost in her latest project.

"I'll see you for lunch, Luna?" Hermione asked, already making her way to the exit.

Taking in the chaos all around her, and the supremely contented look on Luna's face, Hermione was uncertain whether she owed Draco Malfoy a clap on the back, or a punch in the gut.


	9. A Note From a Friend

Narcissa sat primly on the settee in her solar, waiting for Draco to arrive to join her for tea as he did every Tuesday. Since he had begun his courtship of Miss Lovegood, she had seen less and less of him – but that was to be expected, and made her quietly happy for him.

Still, she looked forward to Tuesdays, for she did miss spending time with her son, and – even more thrilling – it was when he spoke to her of his developing relationship with the Lovegood girl. Narcissa had not seen him so genuinely enjoying life since he was much younger, and much, much more innocent.

She and Lucius had a great deal to answer for.

Taking out her favorite peacock feather quill, Narcissa penned a letter to Lucius to pass the time. She had just finished describing Draco's subtle changes in demeanor that were nevertheless apparent to his mother, and his blossoming relationship with Luna when the subject of her words sauntered into the room.

His hair was neatly tied back, as always, but he had left off his jacket, which was unusual. He looked quite rakish in his vest and shirtsleeves, reminding Narcissa of how dashing his father had been at that age.

She promptly stopped that train of thought before it could go any further.

"Draco," she greeted, standing to hug him and kiss his cheeks. He allowed it, before bowing her back to her seat, and taking one himself.

Where only a few short weeks ago he would have sat straight and stiff, he now sprawled, at ease, a small grin forever turning up the corners of his lips.

"Mother," he returned. "Have you read anything of note in the Prophet you want to discuss today?"

Narcissa poured the tea, and Draco helped himself to a plate of canapés resting on the delicate coffee table. Smiling to herself, Narcissa turned to page two of the society section, revealing a rather large photograph of Draco and Luna strolling together in Diagon Alley.

"You've caused quite a stir since you and Miss Lovegood have begun stepping out together," Narcissa smoothed her hand over the paper. Within the picture Luna smiled dreamily up at her, and Draco tugged on Luna's sleeve, trying to get her attention.

Draco frowned. He was carefully avoiding taking Luna places where they would be likely to meet with those who might… object to his courting her. The support of Ginny Potter and Hermione Weasely (and by proxy, their husbands) went quite far, but there were still those who would like to see him in Azkaban, or at the very least dating someone much less pleasant than Luna Lovegood.

"What kind of stir?" he asked in the neutral voice that Narcissa knew he used only when on the verge of upset.

Before Narcissa could phrase her answer properly, Mipsy came pelting through the door with Draco's eagle owl Archon held above her head in her two little hands. "Master Draco is gettings a letter from Miss Luna!"

Draco took Archon from Mipsy with a nod of thanks, allowing the bird to perch on the back of his chair as he opened the missive. He had to work to hold back a creeping feeling of dread as his eyes lit upon the first line.

_Dear Draco,_

_Have you seen the picture of us in The Daily Prophet? I think we must look rather nice, as everyone keeps owling me to ask about it. Would you like a copy? I've saved two, in case you don't have one._

_I'm going to have tea now. I feel like pudding._

_Luna_

_p.s. Lisa Turpin has sent me a pair of knickers and said you'd forgotten them with her. I suppose she wants me to give them back to you. I didn't know you wore knickers. I can't imagine it's very comfortable._

Unable to contain himself, his inexplicable sense of worry vanishing as he finished the letter, Draco burst into helpless laughter.

"Draco, what is it?" Narcissa asked in concern, the suspense taking its toll. It took conscious effort not to wring her hands.

Women of dignity did not wring their hands.

"Nothing, Mother," Draco answered, wiping at his eyes. He drew his wand, summoning a fresh sheet of parchment from the writing desk in the corner of the room, "Just a note from a friend."

He couldn't hear the quiet joy and awe in his voice, but Narcissa could. How long had it been since her beautiful boy had had a true friend?

As Draco took up Narcissa's favorite quill to pen a reply, Narcissa turned her head to hide the tears that gathered in her eyes.

Luna Lovegood had yet to formally meet Narcissa Malfoy, but Narcissa already loved her.

 


End file.
